The Longest Winter Without You
by thamockingjayandpeeta
Summary: Peeta shows up on Katniss' doorstep one night several years after he threw her the bread. Follow the events that happen after that fateful night. One-shot. Rated M. Slight A/U. Told in Katniss' POV. Everlark, hint of Gadge (though not much). Appearances by Madge, Effie & Mrs. Everdeen. Title taken from a line from Better in Time by Leona Lewis. NOT A SONG FIC. Like at all. Ever.


There's a loud rasp on my door, its sound echoing into the silence of the night. I had just climbed into bed and was drifting off to sleep when I heard it. My heartbeat sped up, wondering who it could be. There's never anything good waiting on the other side of the door when it's the middle of the night.

I get up, slipping on a pair of sweats over my underwear and an old shirt over my sports bra. I put on my slippers to protect my feet from the coldness of the floor. There's never enough heat during the winter to successfully warm me.

I hear another knock and yell out, "I'm coming," and quicken my pace. When I get to the door I try my best not to remember the last time there was a knock on my door.

We heard the explosion, and we waited, paralyzed, for them to come tell us. They went door to door, delivering the news in person, letting all the families know to their faces if their husbands, fathers, brothers, would be coming home.

We were not so lucky.

Taking a deep breath I open the door.

It was the last person in the world I ever expected to see.

My dead father was a more realistic person to be standing on my doorstep than this man.

"Mr. Mellark," I say, the shock evident in my voice.

"Katniss," responds the older man. "Is your mother home?"

I shake my head. "She and Prim got called into the hospital. Why? What's wrong?"

Mr. Mellark hesitates and then moves aside.

"Peeta!" I nearly lurch myself at him, though I do not know why. What place is it of mine, what right do I have, to run into his arms, even if that is what I want to do? "What happened?"

His eye is badly swollen, bloodied and blue, and extremely puffy. I feel my heart drop to my stomach, my stomach sinking, as the two share a glance, and now I know exactly what happened.

"He needs to be taken to the hospital," I say, trying to keep my voice level and even.

"You know he can't," Mr. Mellark says. "They'll ask too many questions."

"Because it's happened too many times." I can't keep the coldness out of my voice.

At least it's not fear. I'm doing an excellent job of keeping my panic at bay.

"Katniss, please," pleads Mr. Mellark. "Just call us as soon as your mother or Prim gets home, okay?"

"No," I tell him as he starts to walk off. "I may not be as skilled as my mother or sister, but I have picked up a thing or two over the years." I look at Peeta. "I can tend to your eye."

I move aside to let them in, ignoring Mr. Mellark's thank you's. As they pass I can smell the flour on them.

The baker and his son.

I take Peeta to the small kitchen and sit him down, too worried to be embarrassed at how much smaller our house probably is compared to theirs. I walk to a drawer and pull out a flashlight, turning to Mr. Mellark.

"Go outside and get me as much clean snow as you can," I tell him. "There is a blue bucket in the closet by the door. Use that." Mr. Mellark hurries and does as he's told, and I move around the kitchen, getting my mother's medicine together.

When I have collected everything I go in front of Peeta, bending down so that I am eye level with him.

I try to remember to breathe when I look at him. Even with his black eye he is handsome: long, golden locks to match his eyebrows and the most beautiful eyelashes that any woman would envy. His piercing blue eyes rivaled the cerulean color of the sky on its brightest day. His strong, chiseled, square jaw was proof that God favored certain people more so than others.

He was a god, this boy, and as I start to tend to his eye, I remember stolen days, that feel like forever ago, but in reality were not all that long ago at all: soft kisses, genuine laughs, playing in each other's hair….

I wonder how the hell it all went so wrong, though secretly I know.

"This might hurt," I tell him, and when I apply the towel on his eye, filled with medicine, he hisses, his breath sucking in. He let out a low moan, and it sounds nothing like the sounds he used to make when I'd tease him, brushing my hand over his lean leg, or massaging his broad shoulders. "I'm so sorry," I whisper.

"It's not your fault," says Peeta, and I can hear him trying to make the best out of the situation, even now.

"Are you gonna tell me what happened?"

"I honestly don't even know, Katniss," Peeta sighed. "She always gets like this on days like this."

"Days like what?"

He pauses for a while, and I think he will not answer when he says softly, "Whenever I make raisin nut bread."

I stiffen, ever so slightly, and if he'd been anybody but Peeta Mellark, he wouldn't have noticed.

I can feel myself blushing and can't find the words to say anything. I know like me, he is remembering that day, not too long after my father had died, when my mother had tapped out of sanity for a while, and wouldn't—or couldn't—work anymore, so we had finally run out of food. I had taken to going through trashcans, but I had raided the Seam so many times there was nothing left to salvage. I finally made my way across the tracks, to the Town, and was going through Peeta's trash.

I had been so exhausted, and so tired, and then it started to rain, and I just felt so defeated. I felt the fear grip me, paralyze me, and I finally just sat against a tree, ready to embrace death.

Then the bakery door swung open, and blue eyes locked with grey ones, and I was so starved that he actually looked blurry. But I knew who he was…. We'd had classes together. I saw him around school sometimes.

I wasn't sure if I didn't know his name, or if the haze of hunger was clouding my mind. What I do know is that he became the Boy with the Bread the minute he threw out two loaves to me, saving my family from starvation.

It was two weeks before the rest of the memory came back to me, and I recalled seeing his mother hitting him for giving me the bread.

"_You little bitch_," she had called me.

I had wanted to thank him the next day, even in my shame, but I had been distracted by a beautiful, bright, dandelion. I picked it, intending on giving it to him, but I had lost him in the after school crowd. But from that moment on, he was my dandelion.

I don't say anything, though, and finish cleaning his wound in silence, my hands trembling at the severity of the damage.

"I'll come by tomorrow when I make my deliveries to Town to check on its status. If the swelling hasn't gone down I want you to go to a hospital. I can't tell if there's blood in your eye or not, but if there is, they're going to have to drain it." I stare at him in his good eye, my eyes determined. "If I have to call the hospital, so be it."

"Katniss—"

"I won't argue about this, Peeta. I mean it. Be happy I'm not calling the authorities. That woman needs to be committed."

What he may have said next was forgotten when his father came back in with the snow. I place it to his eye as he gasps at the coolness. When I've done what I needed to I bandage the eye.

"Thank you so much for this, Katniss," Mr. Mellark says.

"What time should I come by to check on his wound?" I ask instead of answering.

Mr. Mellark hesitates and I stare back at him defiantly. "Around noon. I'll make sure my wife is preoccupied."

I shake my head, barely concealing my eye roll, and walk them to the front door.

"Thank you Katniss, really," Peeta whispers as his father makes his way down my front steps. "I know you could have turned me away."

"I would never," I said before I could think better of it. I blush and look down. After a moment Peeta reaches out, pulling my hair. I look, scowling, and he smiles that soft smiles of his that makes my stomach do funny things.

"I miss you, Katniss," said Peeta softly.

I want to scoff, and remind him that he's the one who called things off, but instead I surprise myself by saying, "I miss you too."

I want to kick myself.

He gives me a full on smile, the one that makes my knees go weak, and I wonder how after all this time he can still have this affect on me.

"I really want us to be friends again," he continues. "I know that's all you want, and I think… I think I can respect that now."

I am confused by this, and want to ask him what he means, when his dad calls him. Peeta keeps his eyes on me, still smiling, until it falters, and he sighs and turns away.

He's halfway down the steps before I realize he was waiting for my response.

I thought it was obvious.

"Okay," I tell him, and he turns back around so fast that I think he's going to slip on the icy steps.

"Then… you'll allow it?"

"I'll allow it," I say with a small smile.

He grins and waves goodbye, and I watch until they disappear, my smile quickly turning into a frown.

When I climb back into bed, it's with this ache in my heart. An ache about a boy who makes me feel things I never thought I could, and the sadness he brings me whenever I see another bruise on him from a woman who's supposed to be his mother.

XxXxXxXx

The next morning I take my bag full of game and head to Town, intending to stop at Peeta's first as I am behind schedule and it's close to noon.

When I get to the bakery I take a hesitant step inside.

What I see makes my breath catch in my throat.

Madge is wrapped around Peeta, and most importantly, he's wrapped around her, and suddenly I'm suffocating, and the world starts to spin.

What is happening?

"Katniss? Are you okay?" Peeta's words bring me back to reality. He's let go of Madge and they're both walking towards me, concern on their faces.

Madge Undersee, a friend of mine, and Peeta Mellark, who I've had a much complicated relationship with for the past few years.

"Katniss?" asked Madge.

"I'm fine," I snap, not looking at either of them.

I can practically feel the surprise radiating off of Madge at my tone, but ever the sweetheart, she tries to work through it. "I haven't seen you in a while. I miss you."

I try not to roll my eyes. "So you try to get close to my ex in, what, hopes to get close to me again?"

"What?" There's confusion in Madge's eyes, but I'm too annoyed to care.

"Katniss," says Peeta, and I know that tone, that exasperated tone he gets when I'm way off about something.

Madge looks between us and finally does what it is I wanted her to do since I saw her in here, hugging Peeta. "I-I'm gonna go," she says. "It was nice seeing you, Katniss. Bye, Peeta."

"I'll call you later, Madge," responds Peeta, and I feel my heart stop. He will?

"Since when are you and Madge so close?" I asked, suddenly furious.

"Since I realized we have a lot in common," answers Peeta, folding his arms, and he's got that _look_ on his face, that look like he's ready for a fight.

"Like what?" I challenge.

"Like the fact that we're both in love with kids from the Seam who want nothing to do with us," he snaps out, and I shut my mouth, because now it's _my_ turn to be utterly confused.

"What?" was all I was able to ask.

Peeta sighs and runs his finger through his hair, a sign that he's frustrated or nervous. Something tells me he's not nervous.

"Madge is in love with Gale, Katniss."

I drop my game bag and sit down, heavily, at one of his tables. "I beg your pardon?"

"It's… complicated, Katniss. Just… trust me, okay?"

"So if she's in love with Gale, why's she all wrapped up around you?"

"What right do you have to be jealous, or to question me?"

"I'm not jealous," and the lie falls easily from my lips.

He clamps his lips together and scowls, and he's so damn beautiful it actually makes my stomach ache. "Good. You shouldn't be. There's nothing between Madge and I."

"Sure looked like it," I mumble.

"Well I know what she's going through. But don't worry, Katniss, you have me right where you want me. There's a great girl right in front of my face that I can't love because I'm too stuck on a girl who's in love with someone else. And the girl who might be able to make me forget my heartache for a little while is actually in love with the same person the girl I'm in love with is in love with."

I blink at him. "Would you like to say that in English please?"

Peeta, always the gentle spirit, looks like he might finally go off. Instead he just sighs and shakes his head. "I'm not about to lose two girls to Gale, Katniss. I'm not gonna settle for Madge knowing she cares about Gale. And she won't settle for me just because Gale loves you. Madge and I… we could probably be happy together. Maybe even content. But we'd never love each other. Her heart belongs to Gale. And mine? Well… I've been a goner since that first day of kindergarten when a little girl with brown hair and grey eyes, wearing a red plaid dress, sang in front of the entire school."

I look at him, blushing as realization finally hits me full in the face.

"You still think I'm in love with Gale."

"_Think_?" snorted Peeta. "I _know_. And so does Madge. We both saw it. When Gale got into a fight at school and you bought him home, there was nothing but concern in your eyes. And when Madge came by with that medicine, applying it to him, you went into a jealous rage. She knew it and I knew it."

"So that's why you called it off with me?"

"I understood that Gale loved you. I saw all the signs. And I saw that I was coming between that. You stayed up with him all night, Katniss. I watched you."

"And I would have done the exact same for you."

"That means I'm no more important than him."

"No, it meant you were just as important. And if you hadn't been trying to be so got damn noble you might have become more important." I blush when I say the words, but know they're true. "I'm not in love with Gale. I have this fierce amount of loyalty to him, Peeta. But I'm not in love with him. There is no me and Gale. And if Madge wants him I suggest she go and get him."

"What's the point? You've no idea the affect you have on people, do you? If you just gave Gale a chance who knows what'll happen?"

"You _want_ me with Gale?"

Peeta shook his head. "I want you with me. But I want you to know how you feel about me, Katniss. How can you know that if you can't work out how you feel about Gale?"

I want to scream at him. I _know_ how I feel about Gale. He's a _friend_. He doesn't make me feel the way Peeta does. He just doesn't. He doesn't come close. I want to tell Peeta I'm sorry if I ever gave him mixed signals. But Gale and I barely even talk anymore. I've been miserable these last few months without Peeta. Kissing Gale isn't like kissing Peeta. Not in the least. How can he not know that? He knows everything about me. He's loved me since he was five. Why is he all confused now?

But I can't say those things. Peeta is the talker. He's incredible at it, really. Much better than all those people we read about in English class.

Instead I just sigh and shake my head. "It doesn't matter," I say, even though my heart is telling me I'm stupid. The lie is already out of my mouth. "It's good that we're not together. Your mother hates me. You're safer this way."

And seeing him in front of me, with only one good eye, reminds me of the increase of bruises Peeta started getting when we were becoming more than friends.

I ignore the turmoil in his one blue eye, getting up and walking to him. I slowly, and carefully, peel off the bandage.

I breathe a sigh of relief that the swelling has gone down, but frown and how bad it looks.

"I want you to come by tonight and let my mom look at it, okay?"

"Yah. Okay, Katniss." He sounds defeated, and a little annoyed, but I ignore it and replace his bandage, ignoring how close I am to him, and how I can smell the cinnamon blasting off of his body. I never told him how enduring that scent is, and how addicted to it I got while we were together.

I give in to temptation and let my fingers brush his cheek lightly, and the second it does, he leans into me, closing his eyes and breathing deeply.

"I'm okay, Katniss," he says softly, and I realize that even though he may not know _everything_ about me, he knows me. This man knows me.

"No you're not," I respond quietly. "When the hell are you going to leave this place?"

"I'll be eighteen in a few months. I've been looking at apartments."

"Thank God," I whisper, and I allow him to pull me in close, placing his face in my stomach and breathing in deeply as he wraps his arms around my waist.

When the bell chimes I jump back. It's one of Peeta's brother's and he smirks at me as he walks by. I scowl and glance at Peeta, who looks amused.

"Come by tonight, Peeta," I sigh. "Seven o'clock."

I'm out the door but wait until Peeta turns away before reaching into my game bag and pulling out several wrapped up squirrel.

It's his favorite.

XxXxXxXx

I'm purposely not there when Peeta comes over. It's a coward move, but I never really considered myself brave. Instead I go over to Gale's. I pretty much broke things between us when he caught me kissing Peeta. He was stand offish, and I didn't understand his jealousy, until he told me he loved me in a heated argument after I'd asked him why he'd been so distant.

It's the first time I've been over. When he told me he loved me we'd been in the forest, our forest, hunting, like old times. "I know," had been my response. He'd been pissed, and rightfully so, but since then, I've realized that saying it back would have been a lie. That'd been towards the end of the school year, and though we had made up since then, it felt weird being alone with him, so we tended to avoid each other, unless there was a group of us.

And then he got beat up after school, only a few days before term ended, and I realized how much I cared about him, and maybe it could turn into love.

Peeta was right. I needed to know how I felt about him.

So I had helped nurse him back to health, and in the midst of his heeling, I'd kissed him.

"_I knew you were gonna do that_," he said, his face in a grimace.

"_How? I didn't_."

"_Because I'm in pain. It's the only way I can get your attention_."

I was hurt, but more embarrassed, because he was right. Before then I'd been completely wrapped up in Peeta, trying to name that foreign feeling I'd get from him. The way my stomach swooped pleasurably whenever I saw him. Whenever I was set aflame whenever he kissed me. The way my body would respond before my brain could whenever he'd touch me.

"_Don't worry, Catnip. It'll pass_." And then he was asleep, but the damage was done. I don't think we ever really recovered from that conversation, and then it hit me: I had lost two men I cared about, in a manner of weeks.

It wasn't Gale that had made tears spring my eyes, though. It wasn't Gale who made me lose my appetite. And it damn sure wasn't Gale's face I saw when I touched myself, late into the night, mimicking the hand movements he had perfected over the few months we had dared to go further than just kissing.

I hadn't meant to not be there when Peeta showed up tonight. I just got so damn antsy, because he always bought these feelings out of me, and damn it I had worked hard to get over him. What right did he have to talk about loving me, and me being in love with Gale, when he should know damn well how I felt about him.

So as six got closer to seven I made my way to Gale's, and we talked, and laughed, just like old times, only it wasn't old times, because when Peeta passed Gale's house, and Gale asked what he was doing passed the tracks, my dumb ass said that he was at my place, getting his eye checked out.

And it seemed to hit Gale then, that I had used him, used him to runaway from Peeta, and I saw the betrayal in his eyes at the realization hit him.

"Go home, Katniss," he said, so I did.

I learn that Peeta's eye is fine, and that I had done a good job last night.

I barely heard my mother's recap as I noticed the loaf of cheese buns on the table, wrapped up and still smoking.

I went upstairs to take a shower, before I did something stupid like cry.

I went to bed early, without dinner, and after assuring my mother that I was fine, just tired, I stared at the ceiling, remembering the first time I had actually talked to Peeta, many years after he'd thrown me the bread.

I had gone to the bakery to trade with his father. That particular day Mr. Mellark didn't open the door, though. Peeta had.

And I'd been speechless.

He was grown now. Not like Gale was. Gale had looked like a grown man since he was, like, ten, or something.

When I say Peeta was grown, though, I meant he had filled out. His shoulders were broader, his chest squarer, his skin tanner, his eyes bluer, his hair blonder.

He was perfect.

I thought it was humiliation turning my face red, as I remembered the day he'd thrown that bread those few years ago, but really I was blushing because he was checking me out the same way I was checking him out.

That was even more humiliating; because I definitely wasn't on the same level as Peeta Mellark, not with my dark hair, grey eyes, olive skin, and permanent scowl.

In fact the first time he called me beautiful, I outright laughed, and told him that he didn't have to try so hard to impress me with some cheesy line.

He'd been furious, and told me not to talk down about myself like that, that my beauty rivaled the golden stars in the sky, and the moon. Apparently I had the most beautiful shade of grey eyes in the world, like storm clouds on a winter day.

But that day at the bakery, after I had traded with him, my hands shaking, and my knees knocking the entire time, something changed. We were headed to high school that year, and with Gale being a year older than me, I had been afraid that he'd forget all about me with his new high school friends.

Peeta and I ended up being in the same homeroom, and having the same lunch, and that brief encounter during the summer, where we traded together for the first time, gave him the courage to talk to me, and we'd been friends ever since.

It hadn't been until last year though, the beginning of junior year, the first year Gale wasn't with us, as he was now heading to the mines after school to start training, that Peeta started walking me home, and we had started to get closer. And suddenly I was showing him the woods, and the lake, and he was attempting to show me how to bake. And a laugh turned into a kiss that turned into desire that turned into something I could never name…..

And then Gale had gotten into it with another senior at the end of the school year, and he had gotten hurt, badly, and Peeta thought that maybe I had more feelings for Gale than I ever let on, and maybe I should work things out with him before Peeta and I got serious.

"_I don't wanna come between you two_," were the last words he had spoken to me, and then with a soft kiss, he left, and never looked back. I started off senior year lonelier than ever, having lost Peeta and Gale. Not that Gale was going to be around. He works in the mines now.

Some days I can't help but wonder if that day trading with Peeta was a blessing or a curse.

A knock on my door snaps me back to reality.

"Katniss?" It's Prim.

"Hey," I say, because I could never turn her away.

"Can we talk?"

I sit up. "Of course." Prim comes in and closes the door behind her, and I scoot over, letting her crawl in next to me. "What's wrong, Little Duck?" I still call her that, that even though my duck isn't so little anymore.

"Nothing," she says. "At least… not with me. But something's wrong with you."

I raise my eyebrows. "I'm fine."

Prim shakes her head. "But you're not though. Can I ask you something?" I nod. "Are you in love?"

I stiffen and stare at her, looking into eyes as blue as my mother's. She was from the Town, my mother, and had the same pale skin, blonde hair, and blue eyes as the rest of them. Prim had gotten lucky, taking after my mother, and where she was fair I was just as dark, taking after my father.

"Why would you ask me that?" I ask her, attempting to sound as if it were ridiculous.

Prim shrugs. "Peeta's a really good guy, Katniss, and you're hurting him." I scowl at those words. She's my sister. Shouldn't she be on my side on principle? "Don't give me that look. You're really messing things up. I'm only saying that because you always tell me to do and be my best. I just want the same for you. You're missing out on a great guy."

"How do you know anything about it?" I demand.

"I don't know. But working in a hospital, you see a lot of pain and heartache. You see a lot of people wishing they'd done things differently. If something happened to Peeta, what would you regret?"

I felt the tears prick my eyes, but I was _not_ going to cry.

Prim smiles sadly at me. "I know you're scared, because you saw what love did to mom. But you have no idea just how lucky you are. I'd give anything to have a boy look at me the way Peeta looks at you."

"What about Gale?" I ask.

Prim doesn't necessarily tense her body, or even change her face. But her eyes become darker. "Gale… is not like Peeta. He loves you. But… he's selfish. Peeta would give you up if you wanted Gale, because he loves you that much. He'd rather suffer so that you'd be happy. Gale… doesn't think like that. I think being from the Seam makes you want to take what's yours and claim it. Which is why it's so surprising that you haven't done that to Peeta yet. But I won't say Gale doesn't love you. But that doesn't mean he's good for you. He means well. But that doesn't mean he's a good person, or good for you. You'd never be happy with him, Katniss."

I caress her cheek. "When'd you get so smart?" I whispered.

"When'd you get so blind? You've been so worried about taking care of us that you've forgotten to live. I think you self-sabotage sometimes. You were _happy_ with Peeta. You allowed yourself to be happy. And there's nothing wrong with that. Mom's fine. She's working again. We have food. There's nothing wrong with being strong, Katniss. But you don't have to be as hard. On yourself, or others." She leans in and kisses my cheek. "Just think about it."

With that she slips out of my bed, closing the door softly, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

XxXxXxXx

I do not sleep well that night. I toss and turn until dawn approaches. Finally I get up early and head out to the woods. I know there won't be much game, because winter has arrived, but I need to clear my mind. I head to find my hidden bow and arrow, knowing it won't get much use.

I think about it all. About how Peeta and I grew closer for the past year, and how he let me go to give me time to learn what it is I want. I think about Gale, and how we've drifted apart, though still trying to remain friends, but not trying all that hard.

I miss them both, I admit to myself, and I miss them differently.

But how can I tell them this?

I can't. I get tongue-tied and my thoughts get all jumbled. I know what I have to do. I have to show them. I will make this right. I have to.

With my mind made up I make my way back to the electric fence, the NO TRESPASSING sign ignored as I climb under the small whole, my bow being returned to its previous hiding place. I make my way to the bakery because I know Peeta is already up, and I'm hoping his mother is either still sleep or at least not in the bakery.

I walk up the stairs and peak in. Peeta is out front, kneading dough, and this ball of fire makes its way into my lower stomach as I remember him doing the same thing to my breasts.

I quickly shake the thought away, though my stomach is still hot, and knowing the bakery is still closed, knock softly on the door.

Peeta immediately looks up and our eyes lock. I see his mouth frown in confusion before he straightens his face and walks towards me, unlocking the door.

"Hi," I breathe, smoke coming out of my mouth.

"Hey," he responds.

"Is your mom still asleep by any chance?"

He shakes his head. "It's laundry day so she's actually at the wash house."

"Good. Can I come in?"

He instantly moves aside and I step inside, the warmth greeting me like an old friend.

Like Peeta.

"How's your eye?" I ask him.

"It's okay. It's still swollen. I changed the bandage this morning, though. Are you here to take a look at it?" I shake my head. "Then… why are you here?"

Why am I here?

_Cus I'm in love with you_, I think to myself, and I wish I could tell him that.

So instead I just shrug and say, "Didn't you say you wanted us to be friends again?"

He stares at me for a moment and then laughs. "Yah. Yah, I did." He shakes his head at me, his eye amused. "Want some biscuits?"

"Sure," I say, and I sit down to watch him make them.

About halfway through he says, "You wanna help?"

This is a bad idea, and I know it, because I suck at baking, but my feet act on their own accord and walk around the counter and into the kitchen. "Do you remember how to knead?" I shake my head, though really I do. I just want to touch him. Need to touch him. But he doesn't take my hand. He grabs a ball of dough and shows me how. "Got it?"

"Yah. It's like what you used to do my breasts."

I have no idea what I'm saying. See why I don't say how I feel? It turns out like this.

He whips his head towards me so fast, but I'm ready for him, so when our face meets I lean in for a kiss.

My stomach drops when he doesn't respond, so I pull away.

I blush scarlet, and I'm planning my escape route when his hands, slightly callused, but gentle, so gently, grabs my face and he kisses me like I'm his only source of oxygen, like in order to live he has to be kissing me.

I sigh and melt into him, and then his tongue is begging for entrance, and I give it to him. When our tongues collide he moans, from down deep in his throat, and I wrap my arms around him, pulling him in closer.

And then suddenly I'm on top of the counter, and my legs are wrapped around his waist, and I'm trying to get him closer to me, but all his damn clothes are in the way.

"Upstairs," I whisper into his lips, and he doesn't say anything, just picks me up, my legs still around his waist, and starts making his way upstairs.

I've never been to his place before, just like he's never been to mine, before the other night. I couldn't just walk in and hang out with Peeta. It was no secret that his mother didn't like me, or any girl from the Seam, really. When he had thrown the bread to me Peeta said that his mother thought I was nothing more than a Seam whore who sold myself to make ends meet.

Peeta had flipped at that, apparently, and they'd gotten into a huge fight.

Now, though, his mother was at the laundry mat, and even if she wasn't it'd be worth the risk, this, being here with him.

I gasp when I feel Peeta's lips on mine again. He makes his way into his room and slams the door with his foot, turning us around so that my back is against the door as he fumbles with lock. He breaks contact with my lips and his lips start focusing on my neck. I let out a low moan, my eyes fluttering open, and see three beds.

"You and your brothers share a room?" I manage to gasp out.

"What brothers?" is his response, and I then he sinks his teeth into my neck and suddenly I forget I have a family too.

"Peeta," I choke out, and then his lips crash back into mine as he slides his hands under my shirt, gripping my breasts against my bra. I moan loudly, arching my back off of the door.

I feel him grip me harder and then suddenly we're moving to a bed. I assume it's his because the comforter is sunset orange.

For us to be so hot and bothered he lays me down gently, gazing into my eyes. I reach up and brush his curls off of his forehead, my fingers lingering over his swollen eye. I lean up kiss him, softly, and he lets out a soft moan.

When I break away I grab my shirt, lifting it up over my head. Peeta gapes at me, his mouth open. "What are you doing?" he gasps. Clothes have never come off before. We've touched, we've groped, we've gripped, but even when his hands are inside me it's only because I've worn a skirt or dress.

I don't answer his question, just start untying his apron. He stays silent, watching me, clearly transfixed, until I start unbuttoning his shirt.

I groan in frustration when I realize there's an undershirt.

"Why so many damn clothes?" I ask, lifting it over his head. I don't let him answer. I just lean up and kiss him again, pulling him on top of me. We both moan at the skin on skin contact, and I feel this fire brewing in my lower stomach.

"Katniss," Peeta finally pants, breaking away, and his eye is dark, dark blue, his lips swollen. "I… I mean…" He's struggling to find the words, and it's such a turn on. "I'm weak, Katniss. I'm not strong. I'm only seventeen, and I… I want you so damn bad it hurts. So if you plan to stop, we have to stop now, because I don't think I can if we continue."

"I don't wanna stop, Peeta," I assure him, and then we're kissing again, and it's not slow, or magical, or sweet, but it's desperate, sheer need and desire. I don't get to admire his body, nor does he get to admire mine, but we at least get to touch, and his skin is so hot, hot, hot, and my flesh is so flushed I feel as my stomach is about to explode.

He lifts me up, pulling my pants down, and I'm unbuckling his pants, and I can't get them off of him fast enough. I've got one pants leg off, his jeans are below his waist, and he's at me entrance, looking at me with dark eyes filled with lust and something that makes my stomach roll with pleasantness.

"I don't have a… well, you know."

I stare at him, my mind hazy with lust, and something else I can't quite name.

"What?"

"A condom," he says. "I don't have one."

"Oh." I blush. "It's okay. I'm on birth control."

He stares at me in surprise.

"What? Birth control isn't just for sex, Peeta."

"I know," he said, and now he's blushing. He looks away from me for a moment before his eyes find mine again. "I've never done this before," he whispers, and I'm shocked, really, because even though we've done some things, we've never asked the other about sex.

"Me either," I say softly.

"Have you ever come close?"

"Only with you. You?" I see the brief hesitation, and the guilt, on his face, and my heart sinks. "Who?"

Somehow I'm not surprised when he says, "Madge."

I scowl. "Why didn't you?"

He looks sheepish and says, "I called her your name when we started."

I just stare at him.

"Yah. She had the same reaction. Then she said she wasn't even mad, because she definitely wished I were Gale. It's how we figured out we'd never love each other."

I stare at him, hovering over me, and say, fiercely, protectively, "Now you have the real thing."

I feel him twitch against my stomach, and raise my hips.

He seems to get the message because he positions himself again.

"I'm so sorry if I hurt you," he whispers, and before I can say anything he's inside me. I gasp out loudly, and he stares at me, startled. "Are you okay?" His voice is a mixture of panic and strain, and I try to hide my wince so he'll calm down.

"I'm… okay," I lie. I can barely breathe.

He seems to see right through me though. "Should I stop?" I shake my head and lie still, taking deep breaths. Peeta is still watching me, as if he isn't sure about this, and suddenly I'm not either.

But as I think that, suddenly I feel full, and complete, and whole, and I feel myself start to relax.

"Are you okay? Can I move?" He must have sensed the change in me, and I nod, giving him permission. He starts moving, and at first I think it's awkward, and our hips aren't aligning right, until Peeta tells me to slow down, as my moves were frantic, and off rhythm. "Easy, Katniss. Follow my lead," he says in my ear, and I listen.

It doesn't take long to realize that this is _so_ right, in _so _many ways, and before long my hips are rising to meet his and I'm making noises I didn't know were possible. I'm finding it more and more difficult to breathe as the ache in my stomach starts to burn. His strokes are long, and slow at first, but then he starts to rock faster, and I feel as if I'm going to combust.

I arch my back as he goes even faster, his breathing ragged.

"Katniss," he groans, and I know I want to hear him say my name like that for the rest of my life. He buries his face in my neck as my heart starts to pound, and I choke out his name as the pleasure starts to become unbearable.

I'm almost there. I'm so close.

I dig my nails into his back and he shudders. He looks up, his brow sweaty, and stares at me. He briefly touches my cheek. "I'm…" Peeta moans. "Katniss. I think… so close. I'm so close. A-Are you?"

I am, but I can't respond. I just lift my hips to his, and gasp out his name.

That seems to be his undoing, and I feel his body jerk and something warm shooting into me.

And then he collapses on top of me, his breathing hard, and he's kissing me, my face, my lips, my neck, my collarbone.

"You didn't finish," he says, his voice still husky. "I'm sorry. I couldn't control myself."

I want to tell him it's okay, but then his finger slides down my body and he's sliding his finger deep into me.

"You're still so wet," he murmurs, and just like that, I'm aflame again. He sticks another finger inside of me, and he's such an expert he knows exactly where to go, and what to do, and how to get me there, so it doesn't take long for my hips to arch off of the bed, my own body electrified.

The sound that escapes my lips makes me blush.

He watches me in awe, and it makes me flush even more.

"You're so beautiful, Katniss."

I smile as he settles next to me, his breathing still hard.

I feel the mood change once his breathing returns to normal.

"Is… is what we did okay?" he asks, turning to me.

"What do you mean?"

"It's just… I mean… your reputation around town is that you're pure as snow."

I frown at him. "If I have a reputation, why'd you ask if you were my first?"

Peeta snorts. "Because Gale's known for having a completely different reputation."

"You think I slept with _Gale_?" I ask, staring at him.

"It doesn't matter. I just want you to know I'd never hurt you, Katniss. I'm sorry I wasn't more gentle or caring or—"

I soften. "It was perfect, Peeta. It happened the way it was supposed to, and I don't regret it. We'll have plenty of time for gentle and caring." I caress his cheek and sit up. "I should go before your parents catch us."

"Yah," he says. I slip out of bed, rummaging around for my clothes. "That's my shirt," he tells me.

I smile at him. "I know." I slip the white undershirt over my bra, followed by my own shirt. Peeta stares at me in admiration, love evident in his eyes, and I finish getting dressed with a smile on my face. I kiss him softly. "Can I see you tonight?"

"You can see me whenever," he says, still sitting on the bed.

"Okay."

XxXxXxXx

Peeta and I didn't get a chance to repeat what happened for several weeks. We still saw each other, though, at least a couple times a day. With the snow it's harder for my mom and Prim to go the hospital at night, so they work during the day now. I think the inability to see each other will make the time we do spend together again even better.

Winter break will be over soon, and we'll be going back to school. Then I'll get to spend more time with him, without his stupid mother breathing down his neck.

By the time school starts Peeta's eye is better. It's still a little swollen but the stuff my mother puts on it makes the coloring come back and the black and blue fade.

Though Peeta and I never defined our relationship a year ago, it was obvious we were friends.

Now, however, it is obvious that we are much more than friends now, and I can feel the looks. Some of them are envious, others are shocked, but a lot of them are scowls. I had forgotten that I was from the other sides of the tracks. I'm like trailer trash to these people, while Peeta is a prince.

It doesn't take long for it all to bother me, and when the whispers start to reach my ear, about how I'm not good enough for Peeta, or how I'm only with him because his family is better off than mine, I start to pull away.

"Katniss, you're not really letting what people say affect you, are you?" Peeta asks one day as we're walking home. "Because you're smarter than that."

"How does it not bother you?"

"Because I know it's not true," he tells me simply, and I relax.

I think we're going to be okay, that all is going to be fine, until my mom comes home from the hospital one night in March, her face grim.

"What is it?" I ask immediately. I had just picked up my plate to take it to the sink.

"It's Peeta." I drop my plate and it crashed to the floor. "Don't panic, Katniss," she says immediately.

"What happened?" is my only response.

"He was admitted earlier today. He had a several bruised ribs."

"His mother," I say coldly.

"I think so," says my mom softly. "Though she came in with an excuse about Peeta wrestling with his brothers."

"I have to see him," I say, walking towards the door.

"You can't. She hasn't left his side. She's playing the concerned mother. I don't know what she'd do to you if she saw you. Or what she'd do to Peeta."

I choke out a sob and I let my mother comfort me. It's the first time I've let her see me cry in years. She strokes my hair, like she used to when I was a little girl.

It takes a couple of weeks before I'm sneaking out to the hospital to see him. I think I will go crazy if I don't. I need to really make sure he's okay. I wait until I know for certain my mom and Prim are asleep, and then I'm dressing silently and out my window, always the huntress. I sneak passed the tracks, into the Town, and make my way to the hospital, the moon lighting my path.

It's cold, but the weather isn't what's making me shiver. I'm worried, so worried. I realize I've been selfish these past few months with him. I forgot to care about how much his mother hates me and how dangerous us being together is for him. And it's not respect for his mother, or even his family that makes him never hit his mother back. It's respect for me, and any other woman, because if he hits his mother, then he can hit his wife.

He told me that getting to know me and Delly, his best friend, was what made him realize that not all women suffered the same disease as his mother.

I realize that I'm crying as I get to the hospital, and before I enter I take deep breaths, gulping in the winter air. The night seems eerily quiet now that my feet aren't crunching the melting snow, and this sense of foreboding takes over me. I feel as if no matter what happens, I will enter this hospital one way and come out another.

I make my way inside, almost expecting security guards to have been sent a picture of me from Peeta's mother, making sure I can't see him.

But nobody stops me. In fact I don't even see anyone as I make my way to the front desk. I wait for a few minutes, nobody ever coming to the desk, until I decide I will go to every single room until I find him.

I am waiting for the elevator when I hear a pair of heels clicking.

I turn around and double take. There's no way there's a woman coming near me with _pink_ hair, a gold lab jacket, a black two-piece pants suit, and gold heels. She has has on a ton of makeup, her nails done, her wig tall and bright.

"Miss Everdeen?" she says, and I hear a faint Capitol accent. "I'm Effie Trinkett, the Dean of Medicine. Follow me, please." For some reason I do as I'm told. We don't walk far. Before long we're in her office, sitting down. "Would you like something to drink?" I shake my head. "It's quite rude not to answer," says Effie a little crossly. I stare at her like she has three heads.

She clears her throat and folds her pale hands together, staring at me. "I believe it's safe to assume you're here for Peeta Mellark?"

I think about nodding just to spite her, but I answer. "Yes."

She looks at me sadly. "He's a lovely boy. And something tells me you're a lovely lady, so I'm going to be straight with you. Understand what I'm about to tell you is highly illegal, but I've been warned you might come here, and that I needed to give you the facts. We as a hospital have our suspicions, but absolutely no proof whatsoever that Mrs. Mellark abuses her son. Even with valid proof, Peeta will be eighteen in a few short weeks. There's not much we can do. If you want to keep him safe, and I think you do, I would leave him alone, Miss Everdeen. It's the only way to ensure his safety."

I literally want to burst into tears, but I don't. I feel as if I have cried enough. If I'm going to do this, I will have to be strong.

"Can I say goodbye?" I ask her.

"I wish you could, but his mother has not left his side."

I don't even remember the walk home. I just remember being numb.

I don't see Peeta until my mom comes home and tells me that Peeta's finally been released, after several weeks. I have to wait until my mom is asleep, snoring in her room, before I sneak out the house and into the spring air.

I throw a few rocks at his window, like I used to, before his face appears at the window. I see his face disappear and then we're both standing on his porch.

I engulf him in a hug and then tears come. Violent sobs wrack my body, and then I'm asking him a million questions, trying to see if he's really okay.

"It's because she found out about us, isn't it?" I ask.

"I still don't know how she did," responds Peeta, and my worst fear is realized.

"When do you move out? You've been eighteen for a few days now."

Peeta sighs. "I have no credit, so I can't rent an apartment without a cosigner. My dad was okay with it, but my mom refused. I can't move out yet, Katniss."

I step away from him. "Then we can't do this."

"Katniss."

"No, Peeta. I mean it. I'm not gonna let this keep happening to you at my expense."

"Don't do this. That means everything I've gone through is for nothing."

"She won't stop until she kills you," I argue.

I shake my head at every argument he tries to make, holding back the tears. Finally I silence him with a kiss, and I hope he understands that I'm doing this because he does deserve better than me. His life, his worth, is so much more than my happiness.

When I walk away, I know it's for forever. We're in the same class, but I don't care. He tries to talk to me I just walk right passed him. He wants to sit next to me at lunch, I make sure I'm sitting next to Madge, at a table full of other people.

When I think I'll cave, when missing him becomes unbearable, I remind myself that he's a catch, and he'll move on soon.

On my birthday I head out to the woods. I don't really want to be bothered. It's been a long, miserable year, and though it's nearly summer, I've been so cold, almost dead inside.

I'm almost as thin as when my father first died and our family was starving. I don't have much of an appetite. I eat to sustain my life, but I wonder why. What's the point of living? I keep on for Prim, even as I see the disappointment in her eyes.

I realize as I'm sitting in the woods, my bow in my lap, that I am very much like my mother was after my father died. I realize then that my mother was never sick in the head. She was sick in the heart. Love did that to her, and it was doing it to me. There were days I wouldn't even get out of bed. I'd just stare into space, wishing I were dead. Normally that'd happen after my mom or Prim came upstairs, telling me that Peeta was here to see me, and I'd send him away.

I was trying to save his life, why didn't he understand that?

It was near noon when I felt a presence next to me. I knew who it was by his scent, and by the fact that I didn't hear him.

"What are you doing here?" I ask dully.

"This used to be our woods once, Catnip," is Gale's response. "Am I no longer welcome?"

I shrug.

"Katniss, you need to stop this."

"Stop what?"

"_This_. Those of us who care about you hate seeing you like this. I don't know what you're being all dramatic for."

I don't respond.

"Do you love him?"

"No," I lie easily. I've always been good at this part. Lying to myself, to others, about love.

"Really?" asks Gale, and I can hear the skeptism in is voice.

"Nope."

"So you wouldn't mind if I did this?"

The kiss is not unpleasant, and his lips are familiar. It's… nice.

But that's all it is. No magic. No fire. No burning.

Gale is searching my eyes for any signs of life, and I know he finds none, but he brings my face to his and kisses me again.

I allow it.

I hear him before I see him. It's out of the place, the crunch, the noise, but it's so familiar.

When my eyes spring open I already know who I'm about to see, and my stomach falls with dread.

My eyes lock with Peeta's, but before I can say anything, he's turned and ran away.

I should be happy. This is what I wanted. I should let him go.

But I'm Katniss Everdeen, and I'm the most selfish person I know, so I get up and chase after him, his name on my lips. I can hear Gale behind me, scrambling to catch me, and it's only a matter of time before he does.

"Let me talk to him," he says, grabbing me by my elbow. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I kissed you. I had to. Just once."

I watch Gale run after Peeta, utterly confused. I furiously wipe the tears from eyes, hating myself for still wanting Peeta. I go back home, knowing exactly what it is I'm about to do.

I slip into the shower, my fingers sliding into myself, but I can't find release.

I haven't been able to since me and Peeta's first time.

I cry out in frustration and finish bathing, and then change and head out.

When I get to the bakery I see Peeta and Gale, sitting down.

Talking.

They both turn to me when I enter. I stare from one to the other, trying to make out what it is I'm seeing. Out of all the things to see in the bakery, this wasn't what I expected.

"I need to talk to you," I finally say to Peeta.

But it's Gale who speaks first.

"I need to talk to you first, Catnip." And then he's up, grabbing my hand, and we're headed out the door. I glance back at Peeta to see him watching me, his face unreadable.

Outside I turn to Gale. "I really need to talk to Peeta first," I tell him.

"I won't be long."

"Well then let me go first," I demand. Gale obliges. "You know I care about you, Gale. I care about you a lot. You helped my family and I so many times, and you didn't have to. You had your own family to look after once our father's died. But you took care of us." I take a deep breath. "I don't love you, Gale. Not like I love Peeta. And it seems wrong tell you before I even tell him, but you have to know whatever you say won't change my mind."

He stares at me for a long time, and I stare back. I try to read him, but I can't. He's not an open book, like Peeta. He's like me: dark, angry, unbalanced. He has fire, not unlike my own, but that's not what I need. I need a dandelion. The hope of yellow, the beauty of sunset orange. "It doesn't matter anyway," he finally says. "I got offered a government job in 2."

The words shock the hell out of me.

"What?"

"Let me rephrase that: I'm accepting a government job that I've been offered in 2."

I just blink at him. "What?" He stares at me. "What about your family?"

"With my new salary I'll be able to take care of them. They're gonna live in 4, though."

"Wow," I say. "I didn't even know you were applying to other jobs. I can't believe you're one of the few who actually has the guts to leave." But even as I say it I know that's not true. If anybody was ever going to leave, it was Gale. In 12 you either become a coal miner or you trade at the Hob. If you're really lucky you work in the hospital or bartend at a local bar called Haymitch's.

"I couldn't stay here," admits Gale. "There's nothing here for me anymore. Your kiss proved that." He smiles sadly at me. "I'm giving up. Throwing in the towel. He wins."

"It was never a competition," I tell him.

"Maybe not for you," is his response. "I'll see you around, Catnip." He places a soft kiss on my cheek and then he leaves.

I don't watch him until he disappears.

There's someone more important straight ahead.

XxXxXxXx

"Why are you looking at me like that?" asks Peeta.

"I'm trying to figure out how to tell you what just happened without you thinking his decision affected mine."

"What decision? You mean him leaving to 2?"

I stare at him in surprise. "He told you?"

"He told me a lot of things."

"Like what?"

Peeta shrugs. "That you're in love with me."

"What'd you say to that?"

"That he was the one you were kissing on your birthday."

I shake my head. "And his response?"

"That you never kissed him the way you kissed me."

"That's because I never felt the same way for Gale that I never felt for you."

"And how do you feel about me, Katniss."

"I'm in love with you," I say without hesitation.

His eyes have been guarded the entire time, but at those words, they come to life, briefly. Then they're back to guarded.

"You nearly broke me, Katniss. Was it all just a game to you Katniss? Was any of it ever real? Because I don't get how you could just walk away like that."

"You walked away before too, Peeta."

"Yah, so you could make sure that I was really who you wanted. I didn't get back with you so that I could walk away again."

"I didn't mean to," I say quietly, my voice wavering. "I just wanted you safe. I don't want your mom to hurt you."

"If you had stopped to talk to me one of the many times you were ignoring me over the past few months, you'd know that my dad cosigned for an apartment for me behind my mom's back. I have my own place."

The world started to spin then.

"So you're making yourself sick," Peeta was saying, his voice getting louder, "looking like you're a missed meal away from death, all for fucking nothing."

I stare at him, my voice gone, because Peeta never curses.

He's really pissed at me.

"And it takes me seeing you kissing Gale for you to finally come talk to me so that I can tell you that I'm still just as in love with you now as I was thirteen years ago, and for God's sake please start eating again."

"Why didn't you just tell somebody to tell me?"

"Would you have believed them?"

My shoulders drop. "No."

He sighs and steps up to me, hugging me. "I swear you drive me insane. And you worry me to death."

He feeds me that day, my birthday. He literally hops behind the counter and makes me bread, saving me with the same recipe that saved my life all those years ago.

It takes us a while to grow back together again. The trust had been broken, and I know it's my fault. We go back to being friends, genuine friends. At first his arms are there, and then eventually his lips.

I'm offered a music teacher position at school when we graduate, and Peeta takes over the bakery. I'm still living at home since Mom's working such crazy hours. She's been promoted, and somebody needs to watch Prim, though not for too much longer.

She's getting older.

I haven't heard from Gale since he left, and I go into the woods one day and think about if it bothers me. I search deep inside myself and find that it doesn't.

I'm okay without him.

I invite Peeta over to watch movies one Saturday night while my mom and Prim are working the overnight shift. He can't afford cable living on his own right now, and they're playing scary movies since it's close to Halloween. I have the popcorn ready, the covers on the couch, but when he knocks on my our door, and I open it, and he's standing there in the crisp, cool, autumn air, his blond hair windswept, his eyes as blue as ever, I feel that thing again. That crazy, intense hunger I felt all those months ago.

I know he feels it too, because we look at each other for all of three seconds before his lips are on mine, and then we're headed to my room.

I can't even remember if we close the door behind us. I do recall, however, locking my bedroom door.

Upstairs the atmosphere is ten times electrified. It's been months since Peeta and I did this, in his bedroom. It feels different than the first time. Much different. The first time was pent up sexual frustration and desperation. I had missed him.

This time, there was intimacy. We'd been building it for months, in trying to grow back together. We haven't touched. Not like we used to. At least, not much. Lately there have been soft touches, gentle caresses. I'll lie on his chest, or he'll put his head in my lap. Sometimes I feel him, hard as steel against me, but he's never made a move.

It's almost like we've never done anything before.

He's shy with me as he touches me, until I moan, and I see his eyes darken with lust. We stand there, next to my bed, and he reaches out and starts to undo my braid. He runs his fingers through my dark locks, and then slides his hands down my side and slowly pulls my grey sweatshirt over my head. He unclasps my bra and then places my hair behind my shoulders.

"I didn't get to see you last time," he whispers into the night, so he steps back and looks me over, as if he's trying to remember every single detail. I can feel the warmth in my face and chest, but if it's lust or embarrassment, I do not know.

"You're the most beautiful woman in the world, Katniss." And because he says it, I believe it.

He walks back up to me and lowers my leggings and underwear, his fingers gently brushing my ass, and it sends shockwaves through me. I don't know how much longer I can stand this slow and steady pace.

He admires my lower half and I start to get embarrassed at his scrutiny, but after a while he stops looking his fill and his lips are on me. I instantly melt into him, thinking that there will never be a greater feeling than this.

"It's your turn," he tells me breathlessly after he finally pulls away. I look at him questioningly. "Take off my clothes, Katniss." I'd have done it even if the way he said it didn't make shiver.

With shaky hands I start undoing his buttons, but I'm shaking so badly I can't help but fumble. After a while he takes pity on me—the chuckle dies in his throat when I send him a scowl—and he helps me undo his buttons. When his shirt is open I slide it off, letting it fall to the floor like the meaningless piece of shit it is.

Now it's my turn to stare, and his turn to blush, when I take in his chiseled chest, so gloriously square. I love the blond hair on his muscular arms, standing on end, in anticipation for what's about to happen.

I don't have the same self-control he does, so I bring my lips to his chest. I can feel his heartbeat speed up my tongue flicks across his nipple, I can feel the vibration from the low moan that escapes from his throat.

My hands are still trembling when I make my way to his belt buckle, but I am able to undo it, as well as unzip his pants, my stomach fluttering when he gasps as his pants slip past his hard-on.

Now we're both fully naked, and I swear I can her the room cackling with electricity.

It's an incredible feeling.

He guides me to my bed and lays me down gently. I think we're about to get right to it, but Peeta has other plans in mind. First he kisses my entire face, and I find that familiar ball of fire in my lower region is quickly getting hotter, especially when he kisses my lips, his tongue familiar as it swirls around my mouth.

When I suck on his bottom lip I feel him jump and harden on stomach.

"Katniss," he groans, and again, it has to be the most beautiful sound in the world when he says my name like that.

He pays me back in kind by sucking on my breasts, and a startled cry escapes my mouth. I can feel him looking at me as his tongue works miracles against me, hardening my nubs, and I meet his blue eyes.

When he takes his other hand and kneads my other breast, while sucking on the original one, the only word I can say, the only word I can think of, is Peeta. I wonder how he's so good at this, until I remember he's a baker, and he's perfected his craft over the years.

Thank God.

I nearly protest when he stops, but then he slides those fingers, those delicate, long, slender fingers in between my folds, and my complaint is lost, somewhere far away, almost never having existed. I'm speechless at the magic his fingers are working, until the pleasure takes over. And when he hits that bundle of nerves, I come undone, crying loudly into the night.

"I'll never get tire of seeing you cum," he tells me huskily.

"Then make me do it again," I challenge him, and I can't believe these words are coming out of my mouth.

"Can I… I mean… would you mind if I…." His voice trails off and I try to figure out what it is he's asking. He looks at me, and then glances down, licking his lips, and then his eyes shift back to mine.

Oh.

"Um. Okay. If you want."

"Do you want me to?"

I stare at him. "I don't know. No one ever has so I don't know if I like it."

"Tell me if you don't like it and how you want me to fix it." I nod and watch as he lowers his head, dipping his head in between my legs.

I can feel his breath on me, and then I'm gripping his hair, my head thrown back, when he sticks his tongue inside me.

Oh my God.

Where did he learn to do this?

Who cares? As long as he doesn't stop.

He needs no coaching. He just follows the same path that his hands do, and then I'm trembling again.

I'm pretty sure he's suffocating when I push his head in farther as I orgasm.

Afterwards he looks pretty triumphant, and for a while I just lie there, my breathing loud, as I come down from my high.

He climbs on top of me and starts kissing me again, his mouth extra wet, and I know I'm tasting myself.

"Wait," I say when he's at my entrance. "Don't you want me to return the favor?"

His eyes are so blue they're black.

"No," he says. "Next time. Right now I just… need to be inside you."

I would have protested if he hadn't slid silkily into me right then and there.

I make this sound that I'm becoming familiar with, this high pitched moan to verbally express by internal pleasure, and he makes this deep groan escape from his lips that turns me on even more than what he's doing.

Okay not really. He starts to move, really move, and his strokes are deep, sure, confident, and that ball of fire is quickly about to burst again.

No. Not burst.

Explode.

He says my name, softly, lovingly. "Katniss." It's a like a sigh,

Katniss.

Just Katniss.

His Katniss.

My legs tighten around is waist on their own accord and I push him in deeper.

This time it's me who can't stop calling his name.

I arch my back, because it seems like that's what I'm supposed to do, and it's definitely the right move.

"Peeta," I whimper out, and he's there, almost there, at my sacred place. "Oh God." A guttural moan escapes and I bite his shoulder to keep from screaming.

Peeta jerks and looks at me. I keep his gaze, and I know it'll happen soon.

"Don't stop," I tell him, and he closes his eyes, moaning. "Faster. So close. Oh God. Peeta. Please." My hips are meeting his earnestly, and thoughts and words start to jumble in my mind as I get more and more excited to reach that peak, that mountaintop with him. Harder is the only word I can get out. "Harder, Peeta," I chant. "Yes. There. Peeta. Peeta. Peeta."

I'm saying his name like a prayer, and he's looking at me as if he's under a spell. I stare back and watch as his orbs darken until they're midnight blue, like the night sky.

I decide in that moment I want to drown in them.

We cum together, loudly, both of us, our bodies sweating, and we're pumping in sync so I don't know who's taking and who's giving.

He pumps into me for good measure a few more times, and I revel how good it feels to have his seed inside me.

He buries his face in the crook of my neck as he slowly slides out, as if he never wants to leave me.

"You love me, real or not real?"

I say, "Real," because it's the truth.

We stay curled up for a long while, until Peeta gets up and starts looking for his clothes. He can't stay. I know he can't stay. He knows he can't stay.

Still, when he passes the bed I reach out and grab his hand. "Stay with me."

He doesn't hesitate. Just flashes that beautiful smile of his, climbs back in next to me, pulls me close, and says, "Always."

He kisses my temple and we drift off to sleep.

The next morning I wake up snuggled into Peeta's arms. His body is pressed into mine and he's got me locked securely in his arms, as if he'll never let me go. I can tell he's awake because his breathing was uneven, and I learned how his breathing sounds when he's asleep now.

That's how I fell asleep.

He starts rubbing my arm with his thumb and I don't think I quite mask my shiver because he leaves my arm and grips my breasts. I moan softly, and then he flips me over, kissing my neck.

I'm already getting wet.

"Katniss," he says softly, and now I'm a puddle.

We're kissing, and touching, and the minute he slides into me I'm arching into him.

We start slow, careful to be quiet, because we found out last night my bed squeaks, and the last thing we need is for my mother to hear what's going on under her very roof. I've never disrespected her house, and I don't want her to know I'm doing so now.

I should feel guilty, but really all I feel is pleasure.

At the exact same time there's a soft knock on my door, and Prim gently calls, "Katniss, are you awake?" Peeta hits a spot that makes me say, "Yes."

Prim thinks I'm responding to her, but I'm not.

"Can I come in?"

I can't immediately answer because Peeta keeps thrusting, ignoring the fact that my younger sister is on the other side of the door.

"Katniss?"

I moan softly, gripping Peeta's hips and pulling him into me. "Give me a minute," I say as casually as I can, but I know my voice is wavering.

"You're gonna need longer than that," Peeta said throatily in my ear, and those words make me cum.

He has the nerve to cover my mouth as I cry out.

"Katniss, are you okay?"

"God, yes," I whimper. "I'm okay." I don't know if she hears me, or even care. I look at Peeta, my voice lowering. "I'm better than okay. I'm good. So fucking good."

This time it's Peeta who groans, and I feel the vibrations against his chest, which my breasts are bouncing against.

"Katniss," he says, burying his face in my neck and running his fingers through my hair. "You're so incredible. So incredible."

His hips start pumping faster, his strokes stronger, and I have to bite my lip from screaming.

When he skates his hand in between my legs, fingering me, he has to kiss me to muffle the noise I make as I cum.

Thankfully his grunt is muffled in my lips as he cums too.

I'm flushed, breathing hard, when he climbs off of me.

I snuggle into him, taking his warmth, knowing we don't have a lot of time left. I sigh, content, knowing I'm the luckiest woman in the world. It's been a long, cold journey these past few months. I was lonely, and so cold without him. It always seemed to be winter when we're apart.

Now, though, spring is back, never to leave again. With him I'm always warm. It's not as dark. The sun is always shining, and there's always hope.

My sweet dandelion.

"I should figure out how to make a quick exit," Peeta finally says after several minutes, breaking me from my thoughts.

"I'll distract them. Just make your way downstairs and out the front door in ten minutes."

"Okay," Peeta says. When we're dressed I kiss him goodbye and go downstairs, hoping my mom doesn't catch me.

I can only pray that the odds were ever in my favor.


End file.
